


Cure for the Dead

by strongplacebo



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-16
Updated: 2009-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-20 00:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strongplacebo/pseuds/strongplacebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after he left, Gideon returns to the BAU. Look, I didn't write the prompt, okay? Written for the Gen Battle: Criminal Minds, any, zombies</p><p>Warnings should not be taken as an indication of dark themes :D  Technically, he's already dead when the fic starts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cure for the Dead

The day Gideon walked back into the BAU was a day when everyone was bored out of their minds trying to catch up on paperwork. Prentiss had been amusing herself by throwing tiny balled-up pieces of paper at Reid's head, which was fun, no matter what he said. Morgan had been happily IM-ing with Garcia until she'd managed to mix up his IM window with Kevin's and there are just some things Morgan did not need to know about the guy. Hotch was trying hard to set a good example, but his trips to the kitchen had been getting more frequent and of longer duration as he stopped at their desks to "check how you're getting along." Still, it was probably for the best. Prentiss was pretty sure she wasn't doing anything in the time when Hotch was safely back in his office where he couldn't see the pictures she was drawing on the Post-It notes before she threw them at Reid.

Reid spotted him first through the glass doors, wandering out of the elevator. "What the hell...?" he said. Prentiss looked up immediately and Morgan spun his chair to face him.

"What?" Morgan demanded. "What's going on?"

Reid didn't answer, he just stood up from his desk, staring towards the hallway. Gideon was still walking towards them. He looked at a little unsteady on his feet. Perhaps lurching might be the better word to describe his movements. He half crashed into the door as he tried to walk through it, but while he was working there, he'd often seemed to be living in a world inside his head, so Reid didn't think much of it.

"Gideon," he said, taking a step towards him. Prentiss nearly sprained her neck, turning to look so fast. Morgan sprung up from his chair and took a couple of steps towards Gideon. Gideon was looking around the room without seeming to see anything. Prentiss shot Reid a confused glance and Reid shrugged minutely at her.

"Gideon, man, what are you doing here?" Morgan asked. He turned his head slightly and spoke to Prentiss out of the corner of his mouth, "Don't let Rossi see." Prentiss stepped smoothly to the right, placing herself between Gideon and Rossi's office.

Gideon looked around for a beat then seemed to focus in on Morgan. "The profile," he said.

Reid and Prentiss shared a look. Morgan took another step towards Gideon, this time with his arms out in a placating gesture, just like he might treat a potentially dangerous unsub.

""Are you all right?" he asked. "Do you need us to help with something?"

"The prooooofile," Gideon repeated. He didn't look well, Morgan noticed now that he was closer. He was kind of...green, in fact, almost like the week-old bodies they ran across in the course of their last investigation.

"You don't look well," Prentiss said. "Can we get you something to drink?"

Gideon turned stiffly to face her. Prentiss gestured at Reid and Reid hurried to the kitchen to fill a glass with water.

"Here you go, Gideon," Reid said, holding the glass out in front of him. Gideon didn't make a move to take it. Reid looked uncertainly at Morgan, who just shrugged. Eventually, Reid stepped forward again and took hold of Gideon's hand, placing the glass directly in it. Gideon's skin was clammy and kind of cold. It was also strangely squishy, like sausage meat. Reid dropped his wrist as soon as possible.

"I need the profile," Gideon said.

"Gideon, we don't know what profile you mean," Prentiss said, joining the other two in a semi-circle around him.

"Is there someone in particular, a particular unsub you need us to profile?" Reid asked.

Gideon just shook his head. His movement was stiff and jolting.

"The profile," he said sadly.

"Gideon," Hotch said from behind them. Morgan would never admit it, but he was kind of glad to be able to hand over control to Hotch.

"He says he needs the profile," Reid told Hotch when he joined them.

"Which one?" Hotch asked and Prentiss shrugged.

"We don't know, he won't say anything else."

Hotch grabbed a random case file from Morgan's desk. "There's a profile in here," he said, waving it at Gideon. "Is this what you mean?"

Gideon frowned. Well sort of. The movement and colour of his skin still made it difficult to detect nuances in his expression.

"No," he said finally. His voice was croaky, like he hadn't really used it in a while. Reid was starting to get freaked out.

"Then what?" Hotch asked.

Gideon paused for what seemed like forever until his face lit up (as in, became a slightly lighter shade of greyish-green) and his cheeks twitched like he was trying to smile.

"It's you," he said happily. Morgan shifted his weight to his right foot.

"Me?" he asked.

"All of you," Gideon said, looking around at the four of them. "The profile comes from you."

Prentiss looked around at the others but they didn't seem to understand any better than she did.

"Gideon, we don't know what you're talking about," she ventured.

"It's your brains," Gideon said happily and he took a lurching step towards them. Reid took an involuntary half step backwards.

"I need the profile," Gideon said once again. "I need your brains."

Reid stared on in horrified confusion as one of Gideon's discoloured, clammy hands reached out towards Prentiss.

Suddenly, Gideon's face went blank (blanker than it had been up to this point) and he started to lurch forwards. Morgan and Prentiss each let out a yell and leapt to the side so that Gideon could fall onto his face between them. Hotch looked up and saw Rossi brandishing a stuffed bird on a wooden stand.

"We should probably handcuff him," he said calmly, letting his arm and the bird drop to his side. "And possibly look into keeping him in a morgue."

"A morgue," Prentiss repeated faintly.

"Yeah," Rossi said, shrugging. Gideon was starting to stir on the floor, groaning and trying to turn over. "At least until we find out if there is actually a cure for being bitten by a zombie."


End file.
